the last revenge- greetings from the graveyard
by Sallyma
Summary: Dark vision about Sherlocks future or only a nightmare?


This is my very first try to write something Sherlock- related, I probably totally butchered his character and the English language. Please forgive me. (English is not my native language)

**Oh, yeah of course – I own nothing.**

**The Last Revenge – greetings from the graveyard**

**2044:**

_No one could defeat Sherlock Holmes, not even death, this was at least what most people thought about the great detective. John Watson knew this wasn`t the truth, Sherlock had not been a super human being – of course he had been a proper genius, a person one would never call ordinary. Sherlock had been extraordinary maybe this was one reason John had been so shell shocked when he found out about Sherlock`s very ordinary demise. Hell no, he hadn't even expected Sherlock to die so sudden, not even half a year after his retirement. Sherlock hadn`t been looking forward to end his career as only consulting detective- maybe he would have never retired, but even he had to admit that even if he had been very fit for his age, his eccentric live style began to took its toll on him. So the detective finally decided to move out of Baker street to settle down in a comfortable cottage, were he began his new hobby: bee keeping. But even if Sherlock had seemed at ease with his new way of live, John sometimes feared Sherlock would bore himself to death. The doctor had never really bought it that Sherlock didn't miss the thrill of the game. He had been married to his work, maybe it had been inevitably that he would pass away like a husband a short time after the death of his beloved wife. But maybe such thoughts were only born in this nagging feeling of guilt, sometimes John thought his short visits hadn't been enough, but it was a fact that he had his own life, he couldn't pay Sherlock his undivided attention, even if Sherlock had been his dearest friend. It was such a surreal feeling to stand now over thirty years later before a second Gravestone, but this time sadly it was for real and not only one of his very clever tricks to fool the rest of the world. This time he was gone and would never come back again._

An unexpected and unwanted intruder, this was what the young man was, who came one day along when Sherlock was just leaving his Cottage to spend time with his new favorite Hobby, which was much more interesting as the more trivial human beings assumed it to be. So when the man approached him Sherlock was not very amused, to say at least. " If you`re visiting me because of a case. I must tell you I`m not interested- so please don't bother me with your story. Just stop wasting my time."

The man didn't even bother about Sherlocks greeting. Silent he watched with curiosity shining in his blue eyes the older man. Then he said before Sherlock could escape his claws " Oh, I`m sorry Mr. Holmes if I have to disappoint you, but I`m not here because of a case."

Sherlock now studied the young man in front of him with equal curiosity and tried to deduce the reason for his visit. The man was in his late twenties, and his tall and lean Figure was clad in a expensive suit. His quite handsome features gave nothing away. But more than this he couldn't deduce, as hard as he tried the man was like a blank page. Like a bloody blank page. Which remembered Sherlock of a certain someone where this phenomen had showed too. What had happened to _the women_ after he had returned to London he never found out. But she was still there in his mind palace – a never fading memory, forever young and vibrant, even if he had seen her very seldom over the last decade. It seemed as if this nagging sentiment was finally fading away.

" Who are you?" Sherlock asked after a long pause.

" Shouldn't you know?" was the very dissatisfying answer of the young man who gave him a firence glance with his blue eyes.

A second time Sherlock let his eyes wander over the young fellow. Blue eyes, eyes he might have seen before and his face, his face remembered him slightly of someone he had know a very long time ago. Only his short straight ginger hair was totally out of the picture. He assumed that it was in its natural condition neither straight nor ginger. Finally Sherlock said "You`re related to Irene Adler, I presume. You share some of her features, even if they are not so prominent. Your hair color isn't ginger, isn't it?"

The young man didn't show any emotion towards the other man, there had only been a barely recognizable quivering of his upper lip when Sherlock had mentioned Irenes name.

" Not too bad, but maybe you have lost touch since retirement- You are right I have dark brown hair normally – but I`m not only a distinct relative, I`m her son." the man stated

Sherlock was quite startelled by this revelation. Did she hide somewhere a child, the thought alone was unbelieveable but the man seemed, so far Sherlock could tell to speak the truth.

"So why are you here?"

" Oh, is it not obvious for you, Mr. Holmes?" the man sounded slightly bored. " You really not in form today aren't you?" he mocked, his full lips offering a grim smile.

" I can`t think of any logical reason"

" Oh I could tell you several ones, but I don`t think there is enough time to tell you all of them."

" I presume, you didn't come for an social visit then, am I right?"

" Oh god no, I have never really been the type of man to socialize with and neither have you."

The curios blue eyes of the younger man wandered over Sherlock`s face as if searching for something, only he knew he was searching for. Suddenly, it seemed a little bit out of context he said " I don't remember a lot about my mother, the only thing I really can recall is that she kind of worshiped you til the end."

" She died?" Sherlock didn't know why this knowledge made his heart wrenching. God he thought this bloody sentiment for the Women had faded away over the decades. But to be true, he still had her Picture Phone.

" A very long time ago. I was still a small child, when she was killed."

Sherlock wanted to asked who killed her, but he stopped himself, he was being utterly ridiculous. So he only sighed.

"You abandoned her, it is your fault she died." the cool façade was slowly fading. " It is your fault I never became the man that I could have been- I never chose this kind of life I lead. Tell me did you abandon her because of me? You didn't want to be bothered with sentiment, right?"

" I did not abandon her. It was a mutual agreement between both companies to part ways. When I was back in London, I didn't even know where she was. It didn't know that she was somewhere hiding a child, she never seemed to have one at all. So it can hardly be my fault."

" So all you tell me is you never knew" the young man spat. " you never knew- what a pity."

Sherlock gave him a glance as if he thought the young man was slightly falling over the abyss of madness. But the man didn't care he just continued " Isn`t it a twist of faith that I will inhabit a other kings crown instead of the one of my father? I think mother wouldn't be too pleased, she preferred fallen angel to rotten demons. I never wanted to become one of the latter ones, but maybe there was never a other choice for me."

" So you are here to talk about issues from your childhood? – I don't think I`m fitted to cope your traumata – some people would say I would be either the one who induces them."

"Oh, maybe they are right," he stated " But no I`m not here because I am overly sentimental, never was – it is kind of practical to be unattached in my business."

" You are an criminal?"

" One might say so." the young man responded with a wicked smile. But the expression in his blue eyes gave him away. He obviously did not enjoy his profession full heartly. Probably, so Sherlock assumed it was more a matter of survival for him.

" Initially I always wanted to become a detective – I don't even know why I`m telling you this. Maybe not only my mother was fascinated by detectives." he paused " The reason why I am here is: I wanted to deal with you myself."

" Oh, oh … now it becomes clearer you`re here to kill me?"

" No, it is not necessary anymore" Sherlock quivered his eyebrow and was in way astonished when the man continued " I already have- I would tell you I´m sorry- but then it wouldn't be quite the truth."

" Oh you`re quite the clever one, aren't you? I assume you poisoned me."

"Yes, it was the only acceptable way – the others, even Moriarty, were quite to blunt in their attempts. Less wit really would have dishonored my heritage. It is like in one of those great Greek tragedies, or maybe more like the legend of King Arthur, minus the bloodshed."

"Undetectable poison – nice touch and without me those incompetent police officers never find it out."

They behold each other in silence for a while. Finally the young man said:

" It was nice to have a chit – chat with you Mr. Holmes, but now it seems as if I have to say my farewell to you. Business is awaiting."

" Wait. You haven't told me your name"

" You never asked: the name is Nero, Nero Hadler."

" Not your alias, the real one."

" Oh, I found it more fitting than my given name, in regard to my profession. Mother seemed to have a overly sentimental Moment when she named me. She gave me the name of my Father and my father`s best friend. Really, I never understand it." he paused and said as if it was a heavy burden to state the words:

" My real name is Sherlock Hamish Adler."

Sherlock woke up with a start. A short Moment he was quite confused where he was. Such an ridiculous dream. A nightmare, what was wrong with him? Nightmares were something for ordinary people. Probably it was the drug withdrawal. Yes, definitely. The dream to say so was quite bothersome, but of course he knew there was no Child. Not even the possibility, because there were never such intimaties between him and the woman which could have led to such an outcome. And still he dreamed about a child, no not a child a man called Sherlock Hamish. Probably his brain was in pieces, not working properly, because why for god sake would she sometimes appear stark naked in his mind palace and haunt him. And now this ridiculous dream. A dream which further assured him, that his detached lifestyle was the only right lifestyle for him to led. As not only for his sake but also the one of the United Kingdom. A criminal mastermind like this Nero Hadler would be devastating. The ruin for the whole country.


End file.
